Sex On Legs
by ObsessedRomantic
Summary: Multi-chapter ficlet, unrelated to my other stories. After the sweatshirt bonfire party, Ryan has a very strange day. Rated M for safety.
1. waking up?

**SEX ON LEGS **

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing to do with The O.C. or it's characters or anything else I might have thrown into the blender that I could get sued for. Just writing for the stress-relief of feedback.

**Summary: **After the sweatshirt bonfire party, Ryan has a very strange day. Rated M for safety.

**A/N: **I don't know if it's the smut bunny infestation (thanks **ever** so, Waltzy) or what; but I keep getting hit w/ these short ficlet ideas. Feh. Hope it's good.

--xxx—

Sandy's gonna be pissed.

My throbbing head reminded me that as justifiably ticked as my foster father was, my body was trying to kill me. Hangovers. The real reason I quit drinking. Well, quit getting **drunk** anyway. I knew everyone thought it was because of Dawn (and maybe a little because of Marissa) but the real reason was because I hated being hung over. I hated being weak and uncoordinated and feeling like shit for anywhere from four hours to thirty because I'd buried my problems under the warm fuzz of alcohol. And asking the cousin of your ex-girlfriend's dead ex-boyfriend to move to San Francisco with you just so you wouldn't have to be alone was definitely a problem.

Thank God she'd come to her senses and broken up with me.

I cracked my eyes open a sliver, trying not to whimper at the searing pain the sunlight shining through the windows caused me. I'd been drinking to mourn the loss of the steady sex more than the loss of Sadie, really; but I didn't remember knocking back enough to be** this** drunk. It wasn't the nudity that was bothering me, it wasn't even the fact that I was, apparently, in Seth's room, in Seth's **bed**. I'd passed out blotto in enough strange places to be used to it, and my foster brother was enough of a worrier to think taking my clothes off (_please_ let it have been him or Sandy** not** Kirsten, please, oh please) would help. No, the reason I was about to freak out was that someone was in the bed **with** me and I was trying to work up the courage to roll over and see who it was. Okay, more like bargaining with myself on how I'd face the _consequences_ of who it was. To think, I was actually praying to have 'defiled' my best friend's sheets with Holly Fisher or one of the other airhead sluts from Harbor. It was certainly better than the more probable alternatives.

I'd just reached the point of promising to shoot myself if it was Summer (and to burn the entire house down with everyone in it if it was Kirsten) when I felt the hand smooth a caress up my bare (damnit to hell) arm from my elbow to my shoulder. I knew the intent behind that touch just as well as I knew the hand. Horror froze me immobile, my brain gibbering madly that it couldn't **possibly** be what I thought. Maybe I was even still sleeping, having a nightmare? An idea and desperate hope that crumbled into dust when **his** lips touched the back of my neck.

I was out of the bed and across the room before his sleepy 'good morning' even registered.

Ryan Atwood: first person to travel past the speed of sound unaided.

''Ryan?'' Seth was, unfortunately, as naked as I was, and I swallowed the urge to vomit at the smell of sex in the air. I looked wildly around for my clothes. ''Something wrong?'' The plaintive, wistful tone froze me as I was fumbling into my boxers, I couldn't look him in the eyes. How could I have done this to him? This was seriously fuc…..no, it was scre……..

This was messed up, so messed up.

He was not going to take the news that I didn't want this very well. Rejection, despite his experience with it, wasn't something he handled calmly; especially coming from me. How was I going to tell him that I hadn't meant it, that I'd just been plastered? So plastered that I completely destroy not only our friendship but his sexual identity? (**And** mine, but one nervous breakdown at a time) I wasn't gay, could never **be** gay, and would've bet money that he wasn't (and couldn't) either. He was dating Summer, for Pete's sake; freaking Summer! I kept telling myself it was just a drunken mistake (one I didn't even remember making) as I pulled on my jeans. One look at the little-boy-lost expression on his face (that I hadn't seen since …..shit, since Kirsten went into rehab) and I knew I'd have to give him something. I may not be able to handle the discussion I knew we needed to have, right then; but I couldn't just run away from this mess (as much as I desperately wanted to). It'd kill him.

''It's okay.'' I tried for a soothing tone, managed to put one of my trademark half-smiles on my face. Shit, he was still eyeing me doubtfully. I guess the way I'd jumped out of bed and scrambled into my clothes was a dead giveaway. I had to sell this, had to get downstairs, outside; so I could think. ''Really.'' I braced myself, my hand steady as I cupped his cheek, forcing my thumb to tenderly rub the cheekbone and ignoring the self-disgust roiling in my stomach. ''Just hungry is all.''

''Yeah, man, me too.'' He gave me one of his mega-watt smiles, the kind he usually gave his girlfriend (you son of a bitch, Ry) and kissed my palm. ''Meet you downstairs.'' He got out of bed, giving me a wink as he unashamedly bared himself to me, and wrapped a robe (thank you, thank you, thank you) around his body before going into the bath room.

Let him think that the swallowing was out of lust, not self-loathing. Let him have that much before I annihilated his life.

I yanked on my socks and shoes, pulling my shirt on over my head as I raced downstairs. Shit, what the hell was I going to do? How could I do this to my best friend, to his family? To Summer? Damn, I wanted to go back in time and start yesterday over, just so I could **not **drink whatever the hell it was I had downed that had brought me to this point.

''Ryan?'' I stopped short in the kitchen doorway, staring unbelievingly at Seth sitting at the kitchen table, fully clothed and eating his breakfast. I actually turned around and looked behind me. How……..? ''You find that notebook you were looking for?''

''Notebook?'' Okay, what the hell was going on? Not only was there no way he could've gotten dressed and past me that fast, but he was looking at me with the usual 'I'm-your-smartass-brother' look instead of the terrifying 'I-wanna-kiss-you' look from upstairs.

''No, huh?'' He smirked at me, depositing his bowl in the sink. He didn't rinse it out, but at least I'd managed to train him out of leaving it on the counter. ''You sure it was** my** bedroom you left it in?'' The expression was the one he usually wore when teasing the shit out of me about my 'conquests'. I was still hearing about the watch I'd left behind at Theresa's hotel room, for instance. I gave him a warning glare and was so relieved to hear his usual snicker that I nearly fainted. ''Look, I gotta go in early. Tell Summer I'll see her at school, okay?'' He tapped his knuckles against my shoulder (oblivious to my startled flinch) and headed outside. ''See you there.''

''See you.'' God, I was so relieved; but what the fuck? Where had** that **little hallucination come from, anyway? Did…….No. There was **no way** I had repressed desires for my _**brother**_, for crying out loud. No. Just…….**.no**. But what else………..?

''Trey.'' Shit, of **course**._** Trey**_. The asshole who'd slipped me some acid, when I was twelve, because he'd been high and thought it'd be funny to see what 'Mom's precious Ry-Ry' looked like stoned. The missing two-day-gap in my memory (and the things I'd been told I'd said during it) had turned me off drugs completely. I hadn't touched even pot since. Damn. This must be one of those flashback/delusions I'd been warned about.

Thank fucking God.


	2. Going Out

**A/N: **Just so you know, I'm not turning Ryan insane. If you want to know what's going on……..I guess you'll just have to wait until the last chapter. VEG

--xxx—

''Ryan.'' The woman who walked into the kitchen was familiar, but I still stared at her, frozen in the act of grabbing my satchel. It was a good five minutes before I managed to speak.

''Hailey?!" Okay, this was weird. Not as weird as what I'd hallucinated upstairs (and the missing chunk of time between the bonfire party and now) but still a pretty tight curve ball. Wasn't she in Tokyo? ''What are you doing here?'' She was wearing this silky kimono-like robe that hit her mid-thigh and clung………..

I ducked my head before she caught me staring. What the hell was **wrong** with me this morning? First that fucked-up walking nightmare and then I start ogling my foster aunt? Shit, what had I** drunk** last night? Or, apparently, the night before last?

''I took some time off for the graduation.'' Her voice sounded closer, and I raised my head back up to find her standing barely a foot away, fingering the door of the refrigerator (like she was deciding whether or not to open it) but staring at me with a _very _familiar look on her face. ''What have **you** been up to?" The tone of her voice matched her gaze exactly, she even licked her lips as she eyed me up and down; blatant in her appreciation.

Oh shit.

''I've gotta get to school…..'' I mumbled, trying to convince my legs to move. I managed to complete the motion of slinging my book bag over one shoulder, but my feet seemed to be glued in place. Sure, she was standing between me and the kitchen doorway, but I could always go through the den to the front door or go outside through the patio doors and then around the building to make my escape. She came closer, snagging the strap of my book bag when I took a step back and pulling me towards her. ''Hailey…..'' I should never have hooked up with Sadie. All that steady sex had just reminded my body of what it had been missing. It made it really hard to break away (which I could easily do) or to resist. I tried one last time to reason with the lust in her gaze. ''Hailey, we…….''

''Sshhh.'' She laid a finger across my lips and I swallowed hard Her kiss caught me with my mouth open for another protest, which died in the heat of her mouth on mine.

Hailey slid her hands under my shirt and caressed my back, pressing her body into mine fiercely. My hands moved of their own accord, gripping her ass firmly and holding her tightly against me. Part of me wanted to stop, protesting the many ways that this was wrong. The other part of me (that sounded uncomfortably like Trey), the part that had it's brains below my waist;** that** part didn't see any reason to stop, didn't understand what all the fuss was about. It wasn't like she was a blood relative, or anything.

Yeah, that excuse had gone over_** really**_ well with Lindsay.

Just thinking how Kirsten had reacted to the make-out session she'd interrupted made me cringe. And the thought of how ballistic she'd get if she saw **this**, ever found out about this………

Suddenly, I had no problem breaking the kiss, every part of me in agreement when I freed myself from my foster aunt's embrace. I might've pushed her away a little harder than I intended, from the startled and nervous look on her face; but at least she wasn't trying to climb into my pants anymore. A single whispered word, her sister's name, and she backed even further away from me (adjusting her robe), nodding convulsively. We didn't say anything else, there was nothing more to really be said. We'd stepped towards the brink of a huge mistake and turned away from it before it got out of hand. Sure, it would be awkward for a while, but as rarely as we saw each other, it shouldn't be too har……too difficult to resist the temptation.

I didn't care if I was going to be late, trying to walk to school. The long trek sounded like the perfect thing to bring my body back under control.

--xxx--

''Atwood!'' I looked around, trying to see who was yelling at me. Summer's car pulled a U-turn to drive up beside me, the brunette scowling at me from the driver's seat. Fuck, she was supposed to pick me up (pick me **and** Seth up, really) and give us a ride to school. I'd been so caught up in my thoughts about the near miss with Hailey that I hadn't been paying attention to anything but the walk to school. ''Why are you walking? Where's Cohen?'' Brown eyes narrowed at me, no doubt spotting every reason I had to feel guilty in the disheveled nature of my appearance. She started to smile. ''What's her name?''

''Never mind.'' I fought the urge to flush and got into the car, wishing Seth hadn't gone in early so his energetic chatter could distract his girlfriend from what I'd been up to this morning. I gave her his excuse for not being there and watched her take a few minutes to fight back her temper before pulling into traffic.

Looked like he hadn't told her about the rejection from Brown yet. For a guy as smart as my brother could be, sometimes Seth was monumentally stupid. After all the times his lies had come around to bite him in the ass; you'd think he'd start telling the truth. But no, he had to make the 'sacrifice' of giving up the girl so she could fulfill her potential at the college he'd dreamed of going to for years. Like she wouldn't understand and forgive him if he came clean. She'd forgiven him for Anna and for Alex, for taking off and leaving a note; for loads of things, all bigger than this.

I hated to think about it, but if he didn't start being honest with her, he was going to lose the best thing that ever happened to him.

''Even for you, you're being pretty quiet there, Atwood.'' Summer remarked, entering the campus parking lots. She maneuvered through the chaos with the ease of long practice, ''Everything all right?'' It was nice, how she took time to be worried about me when her relationship with Seth was as rocky as it was. I nodded to reassure her, not wanting to discuss either of the morning's events. We came to a stop, the engine going silent with a click of her keys. ''Grab my bag, would you?'' A manicured hand flicked towards the back and I turned around in my seat, reaching for her purse or whatever. There wasn't anything in the back seat, nothing on the floor, either.

''Summer, where…….'' I was turning back around to face her, when her hands grabbed me by the ears and, for the second time that morning, I was kissed by someone I considered off-limits. This time, though, it was easier to push the girl away, to resist the impulse to kiss her back. Hailey was one thing. She was barely around, wasn't a blood relative, and didn't have a boyfriend (that I knew of, anyway). This girl, however, was different. She was my foster brother's girlfriend, a steady presence, and (usually) a good friend. ''Summer, don't.'' I turned my head away from her attempt to resume our kiss, dragging her hands from my head.

''I was just wondering if I was missing anything, settling for Seth.'' My heart sank at her words, but I knew she didn't deserve to be yelled at. Seth was hard enough to understand if you were a guy (and I still hadn't managed it); she really had my sympathy for trying to figure him out with the added difficulty of opposing genders. Summer was probably pretty confused, at this point; and was most likely starting to second guess every relationship decision she'd ever made.

''You're not.'' Wiping her lipstick off my mouth with the back of my hand may not have been very polite, but I didn't want to run into my best friend with evidence all over my face. He picked the oddest times to notice things outside himself, usually right when you were counting on him being oblivious.

''Yeah, so I found out.'' She made an irritated sound, shooting me a sly look. ''Don't know what Marissa was raving about, Cohen kisses way better than that.''

''Take your word for it.'' I got out of the car, willing to take the blow to my ego if it sent her back to Seth. I was just glad we weren't going to be all weird about it. Like the way she'd come on to me, the night of the fashion show; we were going to pretend this little incident had never happened.

Worked for me.

--xxx--

''Hey, Ryan; long time no see.''

Okay, this was now officially my weirdest day ever.

Seriously, what the hell was going on here?

''Anna?'' So looking around to confirm that other people could see her might've been a little paranoid. I think, given the events of the morning, that it was entirely justified. ''What are you doing here?'' There was kind of a twitch-like movement, as if we would hug, but we just ended up standing there; nodding nervously at each other.

''Some of my credits didn't transfer, so my parents decided that they'd combine a family visit with knocking the bureaucratic heads together.'' She smiled mischeviously and I relaxed a little. Anna had a valid reason for being here, and she was fully clothed. I returned her smile, relieved that the day was going to swing back into normal. ''Pity they aren't letting me watch them rip the records-keeper a new one.'' She shrugged, watching our peers make their way around the hallways. ''Just reminding myself of all the things I won't miss.'' I thought I detected something in her voice, touched her shoulder briefly, comfortingly.

''Seth's probably in comic club''. I tilted my head in that direction. ''Emergency early meeting.'' She shook her head at me, smiling still.

''Much as I appreciate the thought; I don't think it's a good idea.'' She leaned a shoulder against the wall next to the lockers, inviting me to step closer with her tone, her gentle words. '' Summer might see us and get the totally wrong impression. I don't want to inadvertently start off one of their 'rough patches'.'' She must've seen something in my expression, because she sighed, amusement in her grey eyes. ''Or make them break up or anything.'' I couldn't think of anything to say. She seemed to be okay with it, seemed to have moved on. ''So, what about you? You and Marissa still making a go of it?'' I accepted the subject change, even though it was the last subject I wanted to discuss.

''We broke up.'' My voice was flat, but not brittle or angry. I'd spent all the emotions I could on the tangled mess of Marissa's life. It was like she'd drained me dry, I didn't have anything_ left_ to give her but common human courtesy.

''I'm sorry.'' Anna stood straight, put her hand on my shoulder. She looked like she expected me to be crushed. I didn't have the heart to tell her (hadn't had the heart to tell **anyone**) that I was more relieved than anything else. Glad to be out of it, to be clear of the other girl's clinging need. ''You doing okay?''

''Sure.'' It was nice to be dealing with the relatively mild drama of Seth and Summer rather than whatever crises was swirling it's way through the Coopers' life.

''I think you need cheering up.'' There wasn't any way to prepare, her tone didn't give me any warning at all.

Her lips were soft and sweet, her hands braced on my chest as she raised herself up onto her toes to kiss me. My third kiss of the day. Despite the rules against 'lewd public behavior', I was determined to enjoy this one. Anna wasn't a distant foster relation, she wasn't dating anyone I knew; she was just as unattached as I was. I could give myself over to the taste of her, the feel of her athletic body pressing up against me. I put my arms around her waist, pulling her closer. I got the feeling there wasn't going to be more than this kiss, so I was determined to make the most of it.

''Bitch!'' Someone pulled me roughly out of her arms, throwing me back against the lockers. I looked over, but the guy who'd man-handled me was too busy pinning me to the thin metal doors to give the girl I'd been kissing any trouble. She seemed confused, glancing back and forth between me and …

''Luke?!'' Fucking Jesus Christ, why couldn't I wake up already? If that's what was going on. Could this day **get** any stranger?

''Damn right, Luke.'' He appeared to be supremely pissed. I went over anything I might have done (or that Marissa might _think _I'd done) to put him in such a mood and came up short. ''I know you aren't big on commitment, Chino……'' he was getting choked up, dropping his voice to just above a whisper ''…….but I thought what happened in Portland **meant** something to you.'' What the fuck was he talking about? Nothing had…… ''I come home to visit mom and talk to** you** about rooming together in Berkeley; where we wouldn't have to** hide**, you said…..'' He emphasized his point by slamming me into the lockers and I started to get that 'oh shit' feeling again. ''……and now you're kissing randoms in the halls.'' Fuck, he must be stoned or something, not to recognize Anna. I turned my head to see why she wasn't leaping to her own defense and didn't see her. In fact, I didn't see anyone else in the hallway at all. I closed my eyes, possessed of a sudden, desperate desire for this day to be over. ''Don't you have anything to say to me?'' I knew that tone of voice, the 'please explain it to me' voice. The voice of someone who wanted to hear the excuses and false promises. **Anything** to be able to forgive the person who had hurt them. ''Asshole.'' He let me go, I kept my gaze averted as I straightened my shirt, so I didn't see the left hook he dropped me with. ''We're through.'' Luke snarled at me, sounding like he was going to cry.

I lay there, listening to his footsteps fade into the distance, one arm across my eyes. What had been **in** that shit that Trey slipped me, all those years ago? I'd thought there'd be flashbacks, replays of actual events in my life. Not that I particularly **wanted** to relive that stuff; but that's what was supposed to happen on an acid trip; right? So what the hell was **this**? If this was supposed to be some play-out of my deepest desires, I seriously needed to have my head shrunk. Speaking of which, my head was really starting to pound and I could feel the impact of falling to the floor all along my body. Half the reason I was staying on the floor was the fear of how dizzy I'd be if I stood up. This couldn't be all due to a hangover, could it? The pain, maybe, but what about the missing time? I still couldn't figure out how I'd gotten home from the bonfire, or what had happened all day yesterday. Maybe………..

Maybe I was **sick**. Some kind of brain disorder or tumor or something.

I didn't want to panic Kirsten by going to the doctor, but how else was I going to tell if it was a six-year delay in a drug side-effect (and 'fessing up to** that** was gonna be **so** much fun) or brain damage (as many shots to the skull as I 'd taken, it wasn't that far out there) or whatever the hell else this was?

What the fuck was I going to do?


	3. Taking Care of Business

**A/N: **No, I'm not making him terminally ill, either. It's so fun going back to my evil roots. VEG

--xxx—

''Ryan Atwood? Why are you laying on the floor?''

''Taylor?'' Of all the people who could have wandered across me lying there, trying to figure out what to do next, did it **have** to be her? The girl raised annoying to an art form. She was even more irritating than Seth, and that was saying something. I peeked out from under my arm and winced at the pain the light shot through my skull. I kept my eyes closed as I carefully sat up, trying not to move my head over much. A soft hand cupped my neck as I levered myself upright, the strident voice softened to gentle tones.

''Easy there, Ryan Atwood.'' I resisted the urge to shake my head (a seriously bad idea) in amusement at her using my full name. There was no use saying anything to her about it, according to my brother. It was just one of those weird things she did; like applying to over twenty colleges, like being solicitous right after being obnoxious.

Suddenly, I was **glad** she was to one to find me. If anyone could make sense of this freak-out of a day, it was _this_ freak of a girl.

''I need to talk to you.'' I whispered, peering at her through narrowly-opened eyelids, struggling to stand.

''You need the nurse.'' She put herself under my arm, grunting as she tried to lift me upwards. ''This is why you shouldn't drink, Ryan Atwood.''

''I'm not drunk.'' I steadied myself with one palm on the lockers, trying to pull my arm out from around her shoulders. ''Or hung over.'' She was stronger than she looked, I gave up on retrieving my arm. ''I don't think a doctor can really help me.'' I actually didn't think any doctor, especially the head-shrinking kind, would be willing to go through the possibilities with me; they'd be too eager to get me on their couch and 'heal' me so they could make a bundle off the Cohen's. ''I think you can.''

''Me?'' Taylor appeared to be stunned, she stumbled as she attempted to walk me towards the nurse's office. Her hazel eyes were wide with wonder and shock as she looked up at me, searching my gaze to see if I was joking. ''Are you sure you don't want me to find Marissa? Or Seth?''

''Very sure.'' I didn't want to even think about what might happen if Marissa was around. And I definitely didn't want a repeat of this morning's hallucination. This girl was a close enough acquaintance to be able to help but just distant enough that her assistance wouldn't grate on past history.

''Okay. Okay, then.'' She smiled, a different smile than the one she usually wore.

This one reached her eyes.

We reached an empty classroom, she closed the door just as the bell rang. The normal noise of our fellow students seemed distant and far away as she sat in the chair next to me, placing her purse primly on the table. She rummaged around inside and emerged with a package of sanitation wipes. It was too much effort to stop her, and her wiping the cool clothes over my face and neck was actually soothing.

''So, Ryan Atwood, ……'' I smirked a little ''……..someone hit you, causing you to take a siesta in a school hallway; probably on account of how you got the lipstick.'' I blinked at her, feeling my skin heat as she held up the wipe to show me the smear red she'd just wiped off my jaw; probably from where Summer had been trying to kiss me. ''I thought your new girlfriend was 'drama-free'?''

''We broke up.'' I didn't know why I was telling _Taylor Townsend_, of all people. Of course, for all I knew, I'd told everyone about Sadie dumping me sometime yesterday. Damn, having that gap in my memory was really annoying. Now I knew why Dawn always got ticked when Trey or I would bring up something she'd said during one of her drunken black outs.

''I'm sorry.'' She looked really sympathetic, too. Not gloating or eager or smug. Just……sad. She crumpled up the used wipe and made a show of looking for a trash can. ''Are you sure you wouldn't rather talk to Seth? Or your parents? My own relationship history isn't what one would call stellar, flattered as I am that you would come to me with a problem…….''

''Taylor.'' Fuck, she was as bad as Seth. Good thing they hadn't hooked up, or I'd be listening to double the rambling. ''It's not that.'' She turned back towards me from where she'd tossed the soiled pseudo-cloth.

''Okay.'' She sat back down, hands folded neatly in her lap, gazing at me expectantly. Almost immediately, while I was trying to gather my thoughts, she started to fidget impatiently. Struck again by her resemblance to my foster brother, I started to smile. Until I remembered the morning's hallucination (or whatever). The resulting frown made her eyes widen and she gasped. ''Oh my God, you're not dying or anything, are you?''

''I hope not.'' The tumor theory pushed it's way back to the front of my mind and I closed my eyes against the wave of frustrated disappointment. Why did it seem like every time I reached out for that brass ring, someone shoved me off the fucking horse? ''I just………I don't know what's happening.'' I hated how weak and desperate my voice sounded, but from what I'd seen, I didn't think she was the type to turn her back on someone in need. Especially not someone who'd admitted to needing** her**. ''You're smart, you won't over-react, and you won't tell.'' And you're the first person I've run into today that hasn't either tried to get into my pants or acted like they already had, I thought to myself.

''Ryan…….'' Now she looked more worried about me than flattered I was talking to her; I guess I was scaring her with my circling around the subject.

''Just…….listen, okay?'' I swallowed, putting my head down on my folded arms to try and ease the ache. ''And ……..try not to laugh too much?'' There was a long silence as I tried to find words to describe this day, my feelings, what I wanted from her. Small fingers touched the back of my neck, I could feel her standing behind me. ''What are you doing?''

''Helping you with your headache.'' Her tone was matter-of-fact; crisp and business-like. And the pressure of her fingertips **did** ease the pain, a little. It became suddenly easier to think and, when a particularly sharp throbbing vanished entirely; I decided that confiding in Taylor Townsend was the best idea I'd had since I'd dialed the number on the back of that crazy PD's card.

I started with the hallucination in Seth's room, the missing time. I back-tracked a little to what I could remember of the bonfire rally. To be perfectly honest, after Sadie had pulled me aside and dumped me; the party was pretty much a blur of flame and shadow. Relating the other 'incidents' wasn't difficult, just embarrassing. Hearing myself talking about it; I sounded conceited as all hell. Thankfully, even though the red flush on the back of my neck must've told her how humiliated I was, she didn't comment or make any sound of amusement. She didn't make any sound at all, really; just kept steadily working the muscles in my neck and shoulders. It was easier telling her without having to look her in the eye, made it seem ……..I dunno. More manageable? Less traumatic?

''My current theories are drug-related hallucinations, brain disorder, or some really weird dream I can't wake up from.'' There was a pat on one shoulder before she started, from the sound of it, pacing. Now that the pain was gone, I felt confident enough to raise my head and turn to watch her.

Taylor was walking back and forth, that perky little pony-tail swishing around her shoulders as she moved. She'd gone back to her preppy 'uniform' (sweater tied over a blouse above a matching skirt) after getting Marissa back into Harbor. It was a look I hadn't really thought of as **hot**, before, but now…….

Whoa.

Was I seriously checking out Taylor Townsend?

''Okay.'' Luckily, she chose that moment to voice whatever conclusions she'd come to. ''Good news; you don't just suddenly have hallucinations with a neurological disorder. Symptoms for that sort of thing build over time, so unless you've been having migraines, dizziness, or nausea for the past few weeks……..'' I shook my head, feeling better already. Her calm and practical approach to things was just what I needed; now if only I could get my gaze off her chest. ''……Okay, then; that's one theory down. You can always confirm with a medical exam, later on, if you……Hey!'' She snapped her fingers in my line of sight and I flushed entirely red. Busted. ''Up here, mister!''

''Sorry.'' I looked down at the floor, knowing if I closed my eyes, I'd only start imaging her naked. Shit, what the hell was **wrong** with me? She wasn't coming on to **me**, so I start ogling **her**? I needed her mind, damn it; not her body. Although, she did have some fantastic legs……..

Damn it, Ry; mind on business!

''It's okay.'' Taylor came over and sat back down next to me; a move that I thought was brave of her. For all she knew, I could be having some sort of mental breakdown. It might not be safe for her to be within arms reach. Before I could voice that concern, she went back to ticking points off my theories. ''Since there's no pain in a dream, you can't be dreaming; especially since you don't seem like the kind of guy to have _**hidden**_ desires for anyone, least of all your relatives. You seem a very up-front kind of person, Ryan Atwood.''

''Thanks.'' I smirked at her form of address; putting her eccentricity on the list of positive traits in my mind. If I was going to be thinking about her, I might as well keep it out of the gutter for as long as I could.

''You're welcome.'' Polite went on the plus side, she hadn't given the words the normal snarky tone most Newport residents adopted when I was around. Even if she was just humoring me, I still appreciated the lack of attitude. ''That leaves the drug theory. This isn't a flashback, and you haven't described any of the other symptoms of an acid trip: warped faces, sounds that seem like you're under water, too-bright colors.''

''It sounds like you've shot down all my theories.'' Disappointment warred with frustration. I needed her to **help**, not pat me on the head and tell me I was imaging it all.

''Well, they don't fit the facts.'' She shrugged, seemingly unconcerned at my harsh stare. ''I can always pick you up a home-testing kit if you want to check for drug traces, but I bet you it'll come up negative.'' I sighed, chewing at the inside of my lip. On the one hand, I was glad she automatically understood that I couldn't let anyone else know I was testing myself for drugs until I knew one way or another if I was clean. Given the mess with Trey and Jess last year, I'd be labeled a junkie and arrested before the day was out. On the other hand, what else could be going on? I needed some kind of workable theory to go on. At this point, I was willing to entertain anything; so long as it explained what was going on. Seriously, any theory at all. ''**I** think you're in an alternate universe.''

Except maybe that one.

''Alternate universe.'' Disbelief featured heavily in the glare I gave her, the one I used when I wanted Seth to know he was being completely insane. ''Right. One where I'm some kind of man-slut?''

''You** are** an attractive specimen, Ryan Atwood.'' Something in her face, some kind of vulnerability, kept me from flinching when she looked me over. She smiled and turned away, having successfully turned the tables on me for my earlier indiscretion. ''Well, it's either that, or you're in a drug-related coma and the hallucinations you're experiencing are caused by a neurological reaction to whatever you got dosed with.'' As much as I liked that she assumed I hadn't willingly taken drugs, I would rather have gone back to the alternate universe theory. Because if the coma thing was true……… ''Of course, with **that** theory; none of this would be real, not even me.'' She tilted her head at me, raising one eyebrow somewhat teasingly. ''Do I act like you expect me to act?''

''No one's acted like I expected today.'' Strange as it was, I wanted the alternate universe theory to be true. That one sounded like something I could do something about, something I could fix.

And if I could get things back to normal, I never had to think about this crazy day (or naked Seth) ever again.

''So we just have to figure out how to get you back.'' She tapped her fingers on the table, obviously lost in thought as she considered the problem. I found myself staring at her lips, wondering what they'd taste like, feel like. Turning my head so I could focus on the doorway instead of her, I cursed myself out every way I could think of. I was still running through the insults dealing with the blatant stupidity of making a move on the **only** person who was acting normally (for her) when she stood. ''I'll go grab a kit; might as well cover all the bases while we think. Where should I meet you?''

''Pool house.'' Not only could I control access (provided no one was **in** there, waiting for me); but I felt safe there, secure. Right now, a place I could be alone and (rightfully) deny people entry sounded like heaven.

--xxx—

''So, now we wait.''

I nodded absently as I sat down on the bed, glancing at the door to the bathroom, where the drug testing kits were sitting on the cabinet. Kits plural, because Taylor had picked up three different brands so we could have absolute certainty. Good thing I hadn't made a pit stop on my way home. Watching her sitting in 'Seth's chair', obviously once more lost in thought; I wondered why having her here felt so comfortable, so right. It wasn't just that she was helping me; from the way she kept biting her lip as she looked at me, her motives for doing so weren't pure. It was my reaction to her interest, to her in general;** that** was different.

Several girls had stopped me on my way off campus, expressing 'sympathy' for my breakup (guess I must've told Seth) and offering to 'comfort' me. Some were pretty blatant about it, wanting to 'nurse' me back to health when I told them I was going home sick for the day. The cab ride had been fifteen minutes of squirming hell, the driver dropping all kinds of hints about how hard it was to figure out 'who you are' and telling me he'd 'been in your shoes' while he made eyes at me in the rear view. I practically threw the money at him and ran, when we reached the driveway. Must've been at least a ten dollar tip.

This was getting out of hand. At least Taylor had the decency to control herself, even if she was checking me out just as much as everyone else around here. I couldn't really call her on it, either, because I was checking **her **out, too. I don't know what it was; something in the 'alt world' air? Some kind of drug reaction? All I knew was that I was noticing things about her, putting things together in my head.

Until I finally had to ask her.

''Why do you believe me? Why are you helping, when I could be………?'' She blinked at me a few times, coming back from wherever her mind had wandered. I gave her the time to play back my question, to consider her answer.

''You can't be crazy when it's other people who are acting strange.'' She gave me a softer smile and said ''Besides, I have a black belt in Tae Kwon Do; I could totally take you.'' I snorted and her smile widened, becoming mischievous. ''Don't make me hurt you, Ryan Atwood.'' I snorted again and she giggled, shaking her head. ''You're going through something right now, so I'll let it slide. This time.'' She sighed, pursing her lips for a moment. ''I think……..I think I'm helping because you're** letting** me. I know that's kind of weird and very Breakfast Club; but there it is. You're this smart, hot, amazing guy; and you asked **me**, Taylor Townsend, for help.'' She blushed a little, dropping her gaze to where she was fumbling her fingers together in her lap. ''Even after all I did with getting you and Marissa kicked out and trying to break Seth and Summer up; you still trust me to help you. Granted, it may have been because I was in the right place at the right time, and I'm the only one who hasn't tried to get you naked…..'' She darted a glance up threw her hair that actually made me blush.''…..yet. I guess I just can't turn my back on someone in need. Even if it's just to go along with some pretty wacked-out theories.'' She seemed to feel that she'd gone to deep, because she brushed her bangs back with one hand and turned her usual, fake plastic smile towards me. ''Besides, we work this out and you'll owe me one. What do you think about prom?''

I knew she wasn't more than half kidding, but it was actually a good idea. I certainly couldn't go with Sadie, and didn't want the drama taking Marissa would involve. That pretty much zeroed my options and I knew the Cohen's would be disappointed if I tried to go stag. And Taylor had **changed**. Ever since she'd defied her Veronica and helped us get Marissa back into Harbor, I'd noticed that she seemed to be really trying to be **herself**. Not her mother (thank God, one of that woman was enough), or an over achieving perfect Newpsie princess, or a 'better' version of Marissa, or the super-preppy yuppie-to-be she still dressed like. No, she was actually becoming a friend. This crises aside, I'd noticed that she was one of the few people at school who didn't talk down to me, didn't assume that, just because it was fancy or high class; I wouldn't have any idea what it was or have a liking for it. She always acted like I was following along, didn't make anything out of it when it was obvious I didn't, and tried to start conversation on subjects she knew I was interested in. I'd been listening to Seth gripe for weeks, for instance; just because Taylor and I had spent a lunch break debating the influence of politics on architecture, and vice versa. I knew she still considered herself the winner in that one, so I decided to tease her a little.

''Well, I dunno; I'm kind of hoping to take this fantastic girl.'' Her face fell a little, but her smile stayed in place, looking pretty forced. All thoughts of teasing her left, because I started to feel like I was kicking a puppy. ''Do you think Taylor Townsend would go to prom with me?''

''I'm sure I don't…….'' The penny dropped and she made a sour face at me. ''You've been hanging out with Seth too long.'' She still didn't look happy; more like she was regretting having said anything at all. My foster brother was right, I should leave the funny stuff to him and Sandy.

''Taylor.'' I waited until she met my eyes, the hurt feelings harder to hide with our gazes locked. ''You're compassionate, beautiful, smart, and capable. Seriously; I'd like to go to prom with you.'' I hooked a thumb at the bathroom door. ''Providing I'm not crazy, stoned, in the hospital, or returned to the 'normal' universe.''

''Those events could put a crimp in any dating plans, yes.'' She seemed more chipper as she checked her watch, scowling a little. I suppressed the thought that she looked adorable and focused on her words. ''Time's up. Do you want me to…….?''

''No, I think I can check my own urine.'' I tried for a dry sarcasm, smiling to myself when she laughed. Talking to Taylor was like talking to several different people; without the nerve-wracking tension of speaking with a person with multiple personalities.

She could be talking fashion with Summer one minute, comics and anime with Seth the next; then turn to Marissa and have an hours-long conversation about French culture before dragging me into a discussion of how to determine the primary ethnic influence in an urban environment just by looking at the buildings. It was a lot like how I imagined Berkeley was going to be, condensed into one terrifically confusing girl.

Of course, I thought sourly, looking at the negative results on the drug kits; that's if they let lunatics attend college.

''Ryan?'' Taylor knocked and peeked around the door (a very Cohen like act), catching me with my hands fisted on the sink top, staring fixedly at my own reflection, trying to spot the insanity that had to be in my eyes. I'd seen it Oliver, why couldn't I see it in myself? She glanced at the tests and sighed, pulling me out of the bath room and pushed me gently down to sit on the mattress, taking a seat beside me. ''You're not crazy.'' She sounded a little exasperated.

''How do you know? There weren't any witnesses to any of my 'incidents'. Maybe I've been hallucinating…..Ow!'' She'd tapped me with the tip of one finger, right where Luke's fist had left an impression on my face.

''Hallucinations don't leave bruises, or lipstick marks, or limit themselves to the physics of reality; so relax.'' She made some very good points. Of course, I could be so desperate not to be crazy that I was willing to grasp at the straw of her 'alternate universe' theory.

Wait. How did that make me **not** crazy?

''So **now** what.'' I fell back across the bed, hands behind my head. She tracked me with her eyes, making my skin heat. Sitting on the bed was starting to look like a really retarded idea.

''Well, like I said before; maybe you're here to fix something.'' She leaned on one arm, turned towards me. I was very conscious of her throat, suddenly; watching her swallow, feeling like my pulse was beating in time with hers.

''If I'm here to fix Seth and Summer I might as well settle in. '' Our words were one conversation, but our tone of voice, our body language; that was a different exchange entirely. I could see that she was just as aware of where this was going as I was, and just as tense about ruining it.

''Oh, they'll get it together.'' She sighed, laying down on her side, bracing her head up with her elbow. How the fuck had I ever missed noticing how hot she was? ''You know that they're miserable whenever they're apart. That one'll fix itself. Anyone else?'' I flicked a significant look at her, surprised when she got it. I hadn't thought she was a close enough friend to read me that well. ''Marissa, yes. I kind of meant anyone you could actually **help**.'' There was a lot of truth to that. I'd spent three years pulling Marissa Cooper back from the ledge and, if anything else, she was worse off than before.

''I'm thinking.'' I knew Sandy and Kirsten were having problems, but I had to believe they'd work those out themselves; just like Seth and Summer. Otherwise there was no point to anything. Nothing I could do would help Trey or Dawn or Jess or anyone else I knew who had a problem.

Fuck, I was starting to get depressed.

''Maybe it's not someone **else** you have to help.'' Taylor's voice was soft, she traced random patterns on the bed, not meeting my eyes. ''Maybe you should do something selfish, something for you.'' Well, it wouldn't en**tire**ly be for me, if she was getting at what I thought she was. She must've picked up on my confusion and disbelief, because she went on talking. ''From what I've seen, and some things Seth has told me; you spend a lot of time doing for others, trying to help your friends and family. Maybe you're here to learn how to do for yourself.''

''I do things for me.'' Even to me, my tone was defensive, unconvincing. I turned onto my side, mirroring her posture. ''I'm going to college, that's for me. I've got everything I need.'' The way her eyes went unfocused for a minute told me I'd said something significant; but she didn't blurt out with what she was thinking, just gazed unseeingly at me, lost in her thoughts. I tapped her nose, staring a question into her reawakened eyes.

''There's a difference between_ need_ and _want_.'' Taylor laid her palm gently against my cheek, expression tender with something I couldn't define. ''Every relationship you've ever had has been based on need. Well, maybe not the Cohen's; but everyone else.'' I opened my mouth and she put her thumb over my lips, stilling my protest. ''You needed them, they needed you; it doesn't matter which side was needy, or if it was comfort, safety, or just pure release that was needed.'' She traced my lips with the tip of her thumb, holding my gaze with her hazel honesty. ''I want you, Ryan Atwood.'' This time, when she used my full name, it wasn't just cute or eccentric.

It was significant.

I didn't need the complication of Taylor Townsend in my life. I didn't need her to be my girlfriend, to try and have a long-distance relationship with her. I didn't need to spend the rest of senior year justifying being with her (as more than a casual acquaintance) to my friends and family.

I didn't need her.

But I wanted her.

''Taylor.'' I tried to put everything I couldn't say into that one word. Everything about how it wasn't just her body I wanted, and how sorry I was that I hadn't seen before what I was realizing now. My mind was in overdrive, sorting through the probabilities of us; ringing up positives every time. ''Now?'' Never hurts to confirm, and her eager nod was all the green light I needed.

''You know, if you're in a coma, the excess stimulation mi……...'' She was saying, right before I kissed her.

I cupped the back of her head, tangling my fingers in auburn. Fuck, I'd never had a kiss like this in my entire life. It was new and exhilarating, like the first time I'd ever kissed a girl._ Behind the bleachers during gym class: smell of stale cigarettes, taste of her mother's empanadas. _It was an exotic adrenaline rush, with an air of a task finally completed. _Scared out of my mind, trying not to think how many feet we were off the ground; ignoring the vodka on her breath, accepting the distraction of her mouth on mine. _It was familiar comfort _the motel room was a new thing, the Madonna candles making it home,_ forbidden innocence _how can it be wrong to feel this, it's not like she's __**real**__ family, _and pure carnal lust _rug rough under our skin, being careful not to knock over the tray of little beads._ It felt like every kiss I'd ever had, all rolled into one and made ten times better by **who** I was kissing.

My arms around her waist kept her with me as I rolled over, she immediately straightened up into a straddling position and tore at the knot of her sweater. I caressed her thighs, hips, and ass; moving her skirt up to bunch around her waist. By that time, she'd gotten her blouse off as well, sending it flying to join her sweater in disarray on the floor. Sitting up, my grip on her ass (beneath her skirt, I was encouraged to discover she was wearing a thong) kept her in place as I planted a kiss on her breastbone, moving the soft pink satin of her bra aside with my lips as I trailed my mouth across to one nipple. She was gasping now, clutching at my shirt, trying to pull it upwards in reaction to the actions of my tongue.

I pulled my mouth and hands away from the silken heat of her skin long enough to let her pull my shirt over my head. Raining kisses on her stomach, I fumbled in the top drawer of my nightstand until I found the condoms. Prize in hand, I returned my attention to her breasts, pushing up with my hips so she could feel my hard length rubbing (through the cloth between us) against her clit. Taylor moaned, scrabbling impatiently at my belt. She would've had better luck getting my pants off if she hadn't been so insistently stroking herself against me.

Leaning back, I claimed her mouth for another earth-shattering kiss; her now-bare breast soft and warm on my chest, the strap of her bra hanging off her shoulders. I liked the disheveled, half-dressed look on her; made her seem less like a plastic mannequin and more like a person. She certainly didn't feel the need to complain, digging her fingers into my upper arms as she ground herself onto me, trembling and moaning into my mouth as the orgasm overtook her.

She barely raised her hips enough for us to slide my pants and boxers down, her mouth was all over my neck, nipping and sucking like she wanted to devour me. I was barely free of my clothes when her gentle fingers started searing their way along my shaft. The condom was nearly snatched from my hand, her movements aggressively enthusiastic as she covered me. Of course, my own actions in moving that scrap of satin aside as she moved into position were just as impatiently eager. One downward motion on her part, one sharp thrust upwards on mine; and we both cried out, arching our backs as we were finally joined.

This was heaven. She was an angel, a siren, a goddess of primal energy; moving to my rhythym and moaning to herself in ecstasy. I felt invincible; a force that couldn't be denied, a temptation that couldn't be resisted. Her hands were everywhere: now stroking my arms, now caressing my chest, her breasts; fingering her clit. When I tried to move my fingers over to help with that stimulation, I noticed the first problem.

I couldn't move my hands.

Not to say I was paralyzed. But my hands had somehow moved off her hips and were now fisted in the blankets; from which position I couldn't shift them. My watch suddenly felt tight, pinching my wrist; a sensation mirrored (for some reason) on my other (bare) arm. Taylor didn't seem to notice that I'd stopped thrusting as hard or as high, she just kept riding me. Her eyes going glazed as she cried out in pleasure. That's when I started noticing the other problems.

I couldn't hear her.

I couldn't lift my shoulders more than an inch off the mattress.

I could no longer smell her sweet musk, the apricot shampoo in her hair.

Closing my eyes, I tried to hang on to what I could **feel**: her inner muscles caressing and stroking me, clenching around me in climax; her thighs against my hips. I don't know if it was my focused concentration on that release or some other factor that triggered it; but I suddenly spent, biting my lip to keep from crying out. I didn't feel her climbing off me, but I felt her absence, a difference in the quality of the air around me. It felt kind of like my ears had popped, like sounds were becoming clear; what little sounds there were. I wondered what was happening **now** and sought answers the only way I could.

I opened my eyes.

--xxx--

**A/N: **Yes, I am leaving it there. Why? Because I am once more evil. Mwah-ha-ha!


	4. Really Awake

**A/N: **Here we go, the final chapter. Guess I can only stretch the mystery out so long.

--xxx--

My mouth tasted like stale cotton balls, which was strange, considering I'd just been…….

Wait, what had I just been doing?

I blinked, trying to get the room to focus. White walls, softly beeping machines, a bed with rails on it that I appeared to be strapped to.

Well, fucking great. I was in the hospital.

I turned my head to the left, sighing with relief when I saw Kirsten laying lengthwise on a couch with her head in Sandy's lap; his head thrown back , one arm over the back of the couch, just as gone. The blanket over my foster mother matched the one on my bed, just a few tones shy of the padded straps holding my wrists down. I could feel that my ankles were likewise restrained and tried to concentrate on everything else in the room so I wouldn't freak out.

The plastic smell was probably from the oxygen feed up my nose, the IV in the back of my hand lead to one clear bag that had 'saline' neatly printed on the side. Shifting slightly, I could tell that the hospital gown was the only thing I was wearing and, whatever I was in here for, it didn't involve massive physical damage. Either that, or they'd just given me my pain meds. Facing straight ahead gave me the view of the wall I'd woken too, this time I noted the flatscreen TV tilted down at me from near the ceiling. The logo near the bottom made me smirk. Only in Newport would a hospital have a plasma HD television.

Off to my right was a nightstand and, against the wall, a couple of chairs that didn't go with the rest of the room. Seth and Summer occupied two of the three, her head resting on his shoulder; while someone vaguely familiar (with a great ass) was shaking a blanket out over them both. I waited until she finished covering them up before I opened my mouth to speak. Unnecessarily, as her hazel eyes met my blue ones the moment she turned around.

Taylor Townsend gave a little jump, covering her mouth with one hand so that she didn't make any noise and wake my other visitors. She came over to my bedside, peering at me specutively. I smiled at her, really pleased to see her for some reason. I don't know, maybe it was because I felt she wouldn't fuss or tease or give me a lecture. We weren't that close of friends, though, so what was she doing here?

And why was I staring at her chest?

''Hey.'' She whispered, extending a hand and then pulling back before she touched me. Somehow, I was disappointed. I yanked my eyes up to her face before she caught me. ''Are you really awake?'' Oh, yeah. Some parts more than others.

Damn, of all times to adhere to the stereotype of a teenaged male. Get a grip, Atwood.

''Yeah.'' I tried to clear my throat of it's rasp and she immediately held a straw to my lips. Checking that no one else was awake to see, I took a drink. Irritating as it was being helpless, I couldn't figure out what was going on if I couldn't ask questions. ''What happened?'' She hesitated, biting her lip and looking towards my guardians. ''Taylor……'' Something occurred to me and I swallowed a jolt of panic. I was under restraints and my recently ex-girlfriend wasn't anywhere to be seen. ''Did I hurt someone?'' Sadie wasn't here. Sadie wasn't here, and I had a clear memory of chugging a seven and seven after watching her walk out of my life.

Everything after that was a blur.

''No.'' She grabbed my non-IV hand and squeezed it reassuringly, voice still low. I got the feeling she would've like to shout the denial. ''No, it's just…….'' While it was a relief to hear I hadn't gone psycho on the woman after our break-up, I still wanted to know how one mother-fucking drink landed me in the goddamn hospital. My tolerance, even after spending the last three years mostly dry, was a great deal higher than** that**.

''Something happened at the bonfire?'' She blinked at me, so I nodded at her Sorbonne sweatshirt, trying not to stare too long at the lettering. ''You haven't changed clothes.'' She'd changed her hair, though; ditching the cap she'd been wearing and braiding the pigtails back into one ruler-straight length along her spine. The look really brought out the shape of her face, making her eyes look huge and luminous. I'd never noticed before, but there was a slight tilt at the outer corner of each eye. Not enough to be a true Oriental slant, just enough to give her an air of exotic appeal.

Okay, what the hell did they have me on? I eyed the saline bag suspiciously.

''They really want to see if you can remember things by yourself.'' She pushed a button on the wall behind my head. I nodded my understanding, glad she was taking matters in hand to get me released. ''You remember my name, that's a good sign. Means you probably remember yours and everyone else's, but the doctors said to wait……'' I closed my eyes, letting her rambling wash over me. Whatever had landed me in here affected memory. Since my head wasn't pounding, it probably wasn't a head injury. Good, meant I'd be going home all the sooner.

''He's awake?'' Kirsten's sleepy voice sounded doubtful, I opened my eyes and was rewarded with one of her huge, happy smiles. ''He's awake!'' She sat up, nudging her husband, turning her smile on Taylor. ''Did you call the nurse? Has the doctor been in yet?''

''Wha….'' Sandy came awake just as the nurse came in. After taking my vitals, nurse Judy went to fetch the doctor; and my foster parents took up the left side of my bed while my brother and his girlfriend claimed the right. ''You gave us quite a scare, kiddo.''

''Sorry, Sandy.'' He smiled at me, obviously pleased I remembered him. Had whatever happened been that bad, that they feared brain damage? I mentally ran through my last calculus assignment, tried to remember the measurements to the pool house. The numbers played out on my internal chalkboard just like always. Relieved, I opened my eyes to find them all staring at me with obvious concern. All of them but Taylor, who looked like she might've realized what I was doing. ''Sorry.'' I couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't make them worry more. The room fell silent, even Seth couldn't find words; the fearful tension tight across his face.

''Well, I guess I should go.'' Trust Taylor Townsend to fill an awkward silence. She bent over, retrieving her purse from under the chairs. ''I'm so glad you're okay. I'll tell Doc…..the school that you may be out for a while; fetch your assignments……''

''You don't have to go.'' For some weird reason, I wanted her to stay. I turned pleading eyes on Kirsten, just as confused as everyone around me about my sudden insistence for the girl's presence. Didn't mean I didn't want her there almost as much as I wanted the Cohens. ''Right? She doesn't have to go.'' I shifted the pleading look to the girl in question, she squirmed a bit as everyone else looked at her too. ''I mean, unless you want to.''

''Well, no…..not really.'' She gave curious looks to the others, getting shrugs in return. Now everyone was looking at me, Seth with a glint in his eye I recognized all to well. An 'I'm gonna tease the shit out of you until you crack' glint. It would've been easier to put up with that look if I knew why I wanted her to stay.

''Hello there, I'm Doctor Kingston.'' I loved her immediately, just for her spectacular timing. Even her shining a stupid light in my eyes (I didn't have a headache until she did that) was forgivable because before she did anything else, she undid the restraints. Now that I had freedom of movement, I had a very mellow attitude. Good thing, because she started right in on the questions while she was poking at me.

I went through my name, the names of everyone in the room, a brief personal history, and the typical dumbass shit the medical profession used to test your cognitive level. Then she asked me to relate everything I could remember about the bonfire party. Sandy's eyebrows climbed higher the more detail I gave on my last clear memory: standing next to the flames while I downed half my drink, tossing the rest into the sand because of a funny aftertaste I'd chalked up to the seven-up being flat. I included the estimated circumference of the fire, how far away everyone was standing, what they were wearing, and was just going into their physical description when the doctor laughingly interrupted me.

''I think we can safely assume that your memory's intact, Ryan.'' She patted my foot, closing the file she'd been making notes in with a snap. ''We haven't had someone give us that much detail since the last police officer.'' Everyone thought that was really funny, although Seth was the only one who actually laughed aloud. ''I'll get the discharge started. A nurse should be in soon to take the IV out.'' Now she was addressing Kirsten, instead of me; I took the opportunity of the shift in everyone's attention to sneak in another review of the newly discovered hotness that was Taylor. ''Bring him back in for a follow-up in a week, we'll see if it's completely out of his system by then.'' So I'd been dosed with something, something mind-altering. Probably in the booze, given it was the last thing I recalled drinking. I was very, very glad I'd only drunk half of it. ''I'm afraid you're not going to be able to take any medication at all. Not even aspirin.'' I furrowed my brow at her, wondering what the hell this stuff was. Most of the shit I knew about didn't keep you from taking over-the-counter crap, and my head was aching. ''I know, but we haven't got the full list of what went into this stuff, and with the alcohol giving it a boost……….''

''Was it E? Ice? Special K?'' The doctor didn't look happy that I knew the street names for some of the harder stuff, she blinked at Sandy and I guess something in his face must've reminded her I was from Chino because she stopped frowning and started talking.

''It was a new drug, something one of your fellow students got from an older sibling. From what we've been able to tell, the results were intended to be a merging of Viagra and Ruphenol; a lowering of inhibitions combined with an accelerated libido.'' I went crimson, sorry now that I'd asked. From the way Seth was grinning, I'd done something embarrassing when this shit hit my system. ''Since we don't have any samples, and your reaction was so extreme; we're going to err on the side of caution and wait until we're absolutely sure it's gone.'' She looked sympathetic, and I nodded carefully, resigned to the pain in my head. ''Just keep an eye out for side effects. Trouble performing everyday tasks, difficulty with your senses, dizziness, problems speaking, ……..'' Sandy snorted, but waved her to go on. ''……increased sexual appetite, …….'' Kirsten choked and I closed my eyes to Seth's chuckling, wishing an anvil would fall and crush me, a hole would open in the floor and swallow me. ''…….an erection lasting more than four hours…….'' I changed my mind. I didn't like Doctor Kingston, not at all. She couldn't have written this shit down and **handed** it to me? She had to blurt it out in front of my family and friends? In front of Seth, who was_ never_ going to let this go? In front of Kirsten?

In front of Taylor?

Hold on, maybe that explained why………… No. If that was the case, I'd be constantly thinking about her body, instead of alternating images of what she'd look like naked with remembering how much fun it is to talk to her. The challenging part isn't getting a word in edgewise, like it is with Seth. It's keeping up when you get started. Once you start fumbling for references to support your point, or keep up your end of the conversation; you might as well concede and let her give you that smug little victorious smirk that's somehow so adorable and………

''Ryan?'' The doctor tapped me on the foot and I opened my eyes to glare at her, ignoring the worry that flickered across Kirsten's face. ''You went away for a minute there.''

''Can you blame me?'' I snarked at her, reminding her of what it was she'd been saying when I checked out of the discussion. Everyone laughed; so she made her goodbyes and left. Looking at Sandy, I saw nothing but relief that I was okay; no harsh stare of condemnation. Still……. ''I'm sorry. For drinking. If I hadn't……''

''Actually, you still would've been skunked if you'd stuck to the seven-up.'' Summer informed me, patting my hand. ''The guy panicked, thinking he saw a narc, and dumped his stuff in the nearly empty bottle of soda. Guess he thought no one would use it and it'd get tossed with the rest of the trash.'' I had a flash of emptying the green bottle into my plastic cup, swirling the Seagram's into the mix with a straw.

''All the alcohol did was make it worse.'' Kirsten was looking at me sadly and I felt ten times more of a shithead for trying to get buzzed. Getting dumped wasn't **that** bad. Hell, by now I should be used to it.

''I'm still sorry.''

''Oh, sweetie.'' She patted my shoulder, forgiveness written all over her face. ''It's not your fault, we're not mad at you.''

''You're not in any trouble, kid.'' Sandy put his arm around his wife, supporting her acceptance of my behavior. ''You didn't even trash my sweater.''

''I didn't?'' I shot a confused look at Seth, wondering why the paramedics (there had to have been paramedics) hadn't cut the shirt off me. Seeing the gleeful expression, I wished my foster father hadn't said anything. Of course, it was better to find out the horrid truth now, instead of from the sure-to-be-exaggerated rumors at school. Bracing myself, I asked hoarsely '' What **did** I do?''

''Well, you made Holly and a bunch of other junior league Newpsies cry.'' That didn't sound so bad. ''I'm told there was some slapping, courtesy of Jess; but the only girls you really molested were Summer and Taylor.'' Oh fuck. It was a wonder he was still speaking to me. His girlfriend was lifting her eyebrows at me, looking more amused than ticked. Whatever I'd done, it was obvious it hadn't been too far over the line.

''You're lucky your arms are still attached, Atwood.'' She poked me in the shoulder, grinning. ''And that you had that little secret of Cohen's to save your a……behind.'' A quick glance confirmed that I'd blown the fact of his rejection from Brown. Since there wasn't an inquisition from the people on my left (about what the secret **was**), I guess he'd clued his folks in as well. Good. His lies really had a way of blowing up in all our faces.

''You'll be happy to know that, thanks to a suggestion from your little make-out partner here…..'' Seth indicated Taylor with a tilt of his head. The girl just shrugged, avoiding my gaze by folding the blankets they'd been using. ''…..I'm applying to the Rhode Island School of Design, using Atomic County as my resume.''

''That's great, man.'' I was opening my mouth to apologize to both girls (for whatever I'd done) when a nurse (not Judy) came in and took out the IV, disconnecting me from the oxygen. While I was blowing my nose, she pulled the clothes I'd been wearing at the bonfire party out of the closet and set them, neatly folded, on the end of the bed.

''We'll leave you to get…….'' Sandy was motioning everyone out.

''Wait.'' I didn't want to go until I'd heard the whole story. Or at least apologized to the girls. They'd probably both avoid me for a while, so this was my only chance for a convincing apology.

The groveling I'd probably have to keep up until graduation.

''The sooner you get dressed, the sooner we can take you home.'' Kirsten patted my leg as she headed for the doorway.

''Will you all just wait?!'' Everyone stopped, giving me odd looks. It **was** a little out of character, my not wanting to exit the hospital/doctor's office/ what have you as soon I could, but I really needed to say this. ''Taylor.'' She looked at me, wide-eyed with something just this side of fear. ''I'm sorry. I don't know what I did, but I just want you to know…….'' She came back over to the bed, tilting her head at me quizzically.

''This is really bothering you, isn't it?'' I nodded, throat tight. One crime I'd never understood was rape, I couldn't even wrap my head around date rape. To hear that I'd done something to a girl without her permission, however mild……. ''Okay.'' She sat down on the edge of the bed, taking my right hand between both of hers. The others re-took their seats, each couple holding hands. ''From what we've pieced together, and witnessed; here's what happened. After you fixed and drank your drink, you started talking with some girls. Whichever girls didn't have dates, that's who you talked to. You didn't seem to be trying to pick anyone up, just …….well……..''

''Telling them what I thought about them.'' There were surprised glances around the room, I think they thought I remembered that. I didn't, anymore than I remembered giving people in Chino my true opinions, back when Trey had doped me up. Spending eighteen months getting the shit kicked out of me for stuff I couldn't even remember saying did more to turn me off drugs than anything I bore witness to.

''We think so.'' She looked over her shoulder at Summer, who nodded. ''You came up to Summer, smacked her on the butt…..'' I groaned, covering my eyes with my left hand. ''……and asked her if your brother had 'come clean' yet.''

''That's when you told her about Brown, and she came over to me and started yelling. I looked over to where you were and you were kind of attached to Taylor by the lips.'' Seth sounded very amused. Considering that he appeared to have mended his bridges in the (at least) twelve hours I'd been out of it, he had every right to be. Usually it was him doing something retarded and having to scramble to cover or apologize for it.

''You made me a deal.'' My head shot up, staring incredulously at the girl holding my hand. It was unlikely I'd treated her like a whore, as her sentence implied; not with her smiling at me in such a friendly fashion. ''I could tell that you ……weren't yourself, and I asked what you'd been drinking. You told me and said you'd get me the bottle and the cup if I kissed you.'' She flushed a little bit, looking down at our linked hands. ''You're a good kisser.''

''Seth and I came over just as you were finishing up. Townsend took a minute or two to come back down…….'' I squeezed Taylor's hands sympathetically, hearing her quiet whimper of humiliation at Summer's words. Our eyes met in perfect understanding of our mutual embarrassing future as gossip fodder.''…..but she told us what was going on and we kept everyone from leaving until the police got there.''

''The really entertaining part was when the paramedic was checking you over.'' Glancing down at the pile of undamaged clothing, I was suddenly very curious, despite my embarrassment, as to how I'd managed not to end up with my clothes being cut off of me. ''You were fine until they tried to get you into the ambulance. Then you started arguing with them, saying that my Dad would be mad if you messed up his sweat shirt.''

''Untrue.'' Sandy put in, grinning at me. Glad to see he was enjoying himself. In fact, everyone except me and Taylor seemed to be having a grand old time.

Fuckers.

''I'd just finished turning over the evidence and speaking to the police when they noticed the problem. You were being very ……….antagonistic.'' It was her turn to squeeze** my** hand in sympathy when Summer giggled.

''My favorite part is when the guy said that he'd let you strip down and **hand** the clothes to him and you told him he wasn't your type.'' The brunette informed us, causing there to be muffled choking sounds from my left. I shot my foster parents a glare, gaining twin looks of paternal amusement. Great. More blushing.

''You were perfectly willing to hand them to **me**, though.'' Taylor said, giving me a smoldering look. I had a sudden image of her sitting on my lap, hands on my bare shoulders, breasts spilling over the top of her bra as she ground herself into me.

Where the hell had **that** come from?

And what were my chances of getting her to act it out?

''Only down to your boxers, dude.'' Seth reassured me, mis-interpreting the darker heat flaring across my face. ''Then you passed out after they made you vomit.''

''They said it was a good sign that you didn't have to have your stomach pumped.'' Sandy chimed in, grey gaze serious as he relived what had to have been some very tense hours; waiting for word on my condition. ''Due to the neurological effects of certain of the ingredients, they weren't surprised when you fell into a mild coma. Doctor Kingston said you'd come out of it fairly quick. Her only concern was memory loss.'' He and Kirsten exchanged a deep look, both turning their gazes to me when I spoke.

''Well, I have some; because I don't remember anything after drinking that stupid drink.'' My tone was self-disgusted and tight. Shit, I was going native; getting plastered and accosting girls in true Newport fashion. ''I'm so sorry. For everything. Summer, Taylor; you two especially….''

''No worries, Atwood.'' Summer shrugged, blushing a little as she went on. ''Makes us even for the post-fashion show debacle, couple years back.'' I knew what she was talking about; the way she'd thrown herself at me, my first night here. And since Seth wasn't making questioning faces at me, **he** knew too; so there was no reason to tell anyone else about it.

It wasn't like there was a lack of material to harass me with, anyway; not with the idiot I'd apparently made of myself last night.

''I forgive you, too.'' Taylor stood up, releasing my hand. ''That's what friends do, right?'' She seemed nervous, all of a sudden. The uncertain vulnerability under her false brightness was familiar, it made me think of something, something that I thought was the reason for her being uncomfortable.

''So we're still on for prom?'' They all stopped dead on their way to the door. For the second time, everyone was staring at me like I'd lost my mind.

''Sweetie, Ryan asked you to the prom?'' Kirsten turned to Taylor, looking delighted. I think she was just enthused I wouldn't be alone, that night. Of course, now that I thought of it; the two women did have a lot in common. Beautiful, intelligent; no one you wanted to mess with……..

''Yes.'' I answered my foster mother's question at the same moment the auburn beauty said

''No.'' She shook her head, looking at me sorrowfully. ''You didn't ask me.''

''I could've sworn…….'' I frowned, biting the inside of my cheek. Very clear was a picture of the girl, dimpling at me, laughing; and I knew we were talking about prom. It must've been a dream, because Taylor wasn't the type to lie about something like that.

''You should go, Townsend. It'll be fun.'' Summer urged her. Mostly, I guessed she wanted to derail any possibility of my getting back with Marissa, now that Sadie had broken up with me. Bonus: if Taylor and I hooked up, she wouldn't have to worry about Seth.

''I suppose if you need a date……..'' Something about that sentence irritated me, I corrected her without thinking.

''I don't need you to go with me.'' Hurt flared in her eyes, someone behind her sucked in a shocked breath when I smiled. ''I **want** you to.'' Her face went blank and I started cursing myself, thinking I'd blown it. When would I learn to say the right thing at the right time? ''If you want, I mean. To go with me. To prom.'' Now I sounded like I **really** had brain damage. Maybe I could get someone to hit me over the head with a heavy object. Might smack some sense into me, where girls were concerned. Of course, given the blows I'd taken, over the years, and my track record with the ladies……….

Yeah, I was pretty much hopeless.

''I'd love to.'' She whispered, darting forward to throw her arms around my neck. The most natural thing in the world was to put my own arms around her, to hold her tenderly to me, to close my eyes and relish the way she fit so perfectly in my embrace. All too soon, she was letting me go, chattering excitedly with Kirsten and Summer about dresses.

At least, I **think** that's what they were talking about as they left the room. They used a lot of names that made Sandy's eyes glaze over and was probably the reason he volunteered to fetch the Range Rover and meet us all at the exit.

''You're in for it now, dude.'' Seth warned me, shaking his head at what he apparently perceived as my lack of common sense. ''You just asked Taylor Townsend to the prom. You're lucky if she's not already planning the wedding.''

Like a punch to the stomach, I saw a vision of Taylor in white, sunlight gleaming through stained glass, music swelling with formal purpose, Sandy and Kirsten looking on with pride in their eyes.

It was beautiful and terrifying and I wanted it so bad I nearly stopped breathing.

''Don't be stupid.'' I snapped at him, a little harsher than I meant to. ''She's going to France, remember?'' He nodded at me, probably wondering why I sounded so pissed off. I didn't feel like explaining about the daydream, the peaceful satisfaction that had been shattered by my knowledge of her plans for the future.

''Girls **have** been known to change their minds.'' Again, he misinterpreted one of my glares; holding up his hands in an attitude of surrender. ''Just saying, man.'' He finally left, leaving me to swing my legs out of bed, shedding the hospital gown with relief.

Even if she doesn't change her mind about France, I scolded myself; you'll still have the time until graduation. Anything could happen. I was in a much better frame of mind by the time I had my clothes on. Lacing up my boots, I ticked off all the reasons I had not to be depressed. I was graduating from a very prestigious school, in the top ten percent yet. My family was loving, supportive, stable, and 'so proud they could plotz'. Berkeley was a great school to study architecture, especially with the city of San Francisco to lend it's quirky designs to my time there.

Speaking of quirky, I was taking the amazing beauty that was Taylor Townsend to the prom. There'd turned out to be more to her then I expected, then I'd noticed. She was still kind of a bitch, but she was also smart, funny, engaging, and hot as hell.

Shit, the girl was practically sex on legs.

--xxx—

The end.


End file.
